Gardening in lockdown has brought me closer to my late mum
Last month, on what would have been my mum’s 70th birthday, I wandered out to my garden with my morning cup of tea to find a scattering of yellow poppies, just opening up.
After my mum died in May 2018, my brother moved abroad for work. When I began clearing her house, I asked him which of her belongings he wanted; her jewellery, her favourite armchair? “Try and get the yellow poppies,” he said, referring to her favourite flower that went all the way back to our first childhood home.
My mum, a keep and brilliant gardener, had carefully removed and re-planted the poppies with each house move, and they flowered every April on her birthday. After her death, my Auntie Jenny (not my actual aunt, but my mum’s best friend) helped me carefully remove the roots from Mum’s beautiful cottage garden and re-plant them in my own, rather neglected one.
Pre-lockdown, my garden felt like just another chore. Like most young families, it was filled with a trampoline and discarded skipping ropes. Flowers occasionally bloomed in the beds, but only ones planted by the previous owners.
Before she became ill, my mother would potter around in it and point out what she would do. A new border filled with ‘hardy perennials’ here, a climbing clematis there. She would tell me to keep eggshells, dry them in the sun, and crush them up to scatter on my favourite plants to deter slugs. But I was always busy, so I never did any of those things.
Then lockdown hit and I found myself pottering about in my garden, just as my mum had. I began looking through old photos of my childhood garden and my mum’s last garden - her pride and joy - and asked my Auntie Jenny for the names of the plants. I spent a fortune on Hayloft and next to my mum’s old Roberts radio on my kitchen window sill now sits a bowl of egg shells.
When everything - home-schooling, work, lockdown - feels overwhelming, I head out to the garden to potter, prune and deadhead. Gardening is a slow process, low on instant gratification, which is probably why it’s so rewarding.
Best of all, it makes me feel closer to my mum, knowing how much she would have loved my efforts. Most of all, she would have loved the bright yellow poppies that are now springing up all over my borders. I’m deheading them regularly - just as she did - to dry them out so my brother can scatter the seeds in his own garden when he eventually returns to the UK. It’s what she would have wanted, after all.
Have you been gardening more during lockdown? Tell us about yours in the comments below and send us your garden transformation pictures to yourstory@telegraph.co.uk. You can also enter our competition for Britain's Best Garden.
